The Yellow Measuring Tape

The yellow measuring tape unwinds itself, like yesterday had done, today is currently doing, and how tomorrow will. We hop alongside the measuring tape, leaping from centimeter to centimeter or from inch to inch, like eager rabbits, gray, white, black, or brown, awaiting divine cultivated plants. And time ticks on, with our hind legs urging us forward, knowing not when the measuring tape will stop, but knowing all too well that it will stop soon, and perhaps sooner than soon. But some forget this: “knowing all too well.” There are few who keep their long ears keen, their whiskered noses a wiggle, and an acute black eye, or two, ready for when the yellow road can unwind no longer.